


Crystal Clear

by pipisafoat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Relationships, Disability, Disabled Character, Gen, House Elves, Memory Loss, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: Life for Hermione in the aftermath of the war is ... a lot different than she'd grown up expecting. It's not easy for her or those around her.





	

"I think I've finally worked out the kinks for that enchantment," Hermione says as Harry sets a large lasagna in the center of his kitchen table. "You know, for when I'm out of my apartment?"

The two young men sitting with her exchange a short look, and Hermione winces even before Harry replies. "You told us last week," he says gently. "Ron and George are looking for the crystal you need to test it."

She's more grateful than she can express that they've stopped ending sentences like that with "Remember?" when it's all too clear that she doesn't remember. It does sound familiar, though.

"Actually, I have good news on that end," Ron puts in as he shovels a large serving of lasagna onto his plate. "One of our suppliers in Cambodia has three that she thinks are close to what you need, but of course she doesn't know enchanting well enough to say for sure. She's sending them with a secure owl this week. I think I'll have them for you Thursday."

"I still think you should consider hiring an elf to help you at least until you work out the enchantment," Harry mutters before shoving garlic bread into his mouth.

Hermione shakes her head strongly. "I don't need an elf."

She might not need one, but she would benefit a lot from that sort of a partnership, and she knows it. It's not just taking the right potions at the right time to keep her symptoms as controlled as they get, though that's all her enchantment is going to help with. It's the way she got lost in Diagon Alley last week and couldn't find her apartment one street over. It's the way she can't cast simple spells because she doesn't know the incantations anymore. It's the way Ron and Harry have to come get her when they get together for dinner so she doesn't go to the wrong grate on the Floo network, the way she can't cook for them because she set her apartment on fire the four times she tried, the way she misses appointments and thinks she's still pining for Ron and freaks out when it's September 2 and she's not at Hogwarts. It's the fact that she can't sleep alone because she's afraid Death Eaters will break in to her apartment and kidnap her to try to get to Harry even though she knows - she knows - the war is over and there aren't any more Death Eaters.

But it's also the fact that she was "the brightest witch of her age." The one who kept the boys alive and organized on their year-long Horcrux hunt. The one who was offered the Head Girl position even though Professor McGonagall knew she wasn't going to be there for her last year of Hogwarts. The person whose notes - scribbled down in tents on the run from Voldemort - were used by potions masters to improve the Wolfsbane as well as create a few new healing potions. She can't stand that she doesn't understand her own notes anymore. Most days, that hurts worse than the magical medical assistants who make sure she's never left alone at home. It's one thing to pretend they're with her for some other reason, but to look at her internationally recognized, groundbreaking notes, written in her own handwriting in her own Muggle notebooks using Muggle ink, and not to understand even the simplest concepts? She remembers reading about aconite, remembers Snape lecturing about it, remembers the facts that are the basis of her notes, but all that memory doesn't help her connect the dots of understanding and cognitive leaps that are beyond her ever since the final battle. She isn't even proud of her notes, because the one thing she understands is just how far she is from ever being able to do that again.

"Winky was asking about you this week," Ron says, interrupting her thoughts. Hermione can tell by the look in his eyes, mirrored on Harry's face, that the interruption was on purpose.

"You were visiting Draco again?" It's a good day today; she remembers that Malfoy took in the hapless house elf after the war, that Malfoy is their friend now and thus is Draco, and even that Ron has feelings for Draco, though she's not sure if they're admitted, reciprocated, or still a big secret.

Ron blushes brightly. "Er, yeah. You know. Because, he, er. There was a product he needed to test?"

Harry snorts loudly and shakes his head. "That excuse didn't work the first time, not even on him, so you should come up with a better one some day."

"Well, we did test some products Monday," Ron says defensively, but he turns even more red almost instantly after that.

"I'm fairly certain I don't want to know," Hermione teases gently, finally picking up her fork to try the lasagna Harry had dished for her.

"But you were asking them for product testing pictures just two weeks ago," Harry says in an overly-helpful voice that immediately clues Hermione in not to trust whatever he's about to add. "Something about them both being very attractive men...."

"I wouldn't!" she cries, grabbing a piece of garlic bread from the basket beside her and tossing it at her best friend's head, but Harry catches it as easily as a Snitch.

"Ah, but you did," he tells her with a huge grin. "Right, Ron?"

Their other best friend also grins. "You said we looked so good when you saw us in public that you'd love a picture of us, ahem, testing the product."

"Okay, guys, come on. It's not nice to tease the memory impaired person."

The men look at each other before dissolving into giggles. "But it's fun!"

"Harry James Potter!"

"And we haven't lied to you!"

"Ronald Billius Weasley!"

The red head grins at her before reaching into his pocket. "As it happens, I do have the pictures you requested with me." He drops a stack beside her plate, squeezes her forearm fondly, and returns to his lasagna.

Hermione picks up the first photograph, then laughs and shakes her head. "Not products from the new line," she says triumphantly. "I knew I wouldn't be so crude as to ask for ... for that kind of picture! What is this again, though?"

"Animagus Melts," Harry answers. "Melt one on your tongue and you get a randomly assigned animal you can change into, painlessly and at will, for the next three hours. Partly your idea."

She ignores the last piece of information with the strength borne of years of practice, even if she can't remember half of that practice. "Randomly assigned?"

Ron shrugs. "Well, that's what George said when he gave them to us."

"And George would never say anything the slightest bit misleading just to get Draco Malfoy to turn into a lion."

"Never," Harry agrees with arguably the worst straight face Hermione's ever seen. "Anyway, Ron, keeping in mind that I'm straight, tell me how things are with you and Draco! Testing out products from the adults only line is a big change!"

The bright red makes a reappearance on Ron's face. "Things are good. Really, really good."

"I'm glad," Hermione says sincerely. "Ron, I'm also glad ... I mean, I know things weren't easy with me, and I don't hold that against you-"

"But you're glad we're friends still and that we can talk about this sort of thing and that we're still as close as we were in Hogwarts," Ron finishes with the look on his face that means she's said this too frequently even if she doesn't remember saying it at all.

"We didn't talk this much about sex in Hogwarts, though," Harry interjects with a brief apologetic look at each of them.

"Somebody was a little busy getting killed every year," Ron retorts. "I blame that for my late bisexual realization, by the way, Harry."

Hermione tunes the boys out as they argue about Ron's sexuality yet again. It's weird to her that she forgets the conversations that matter, like apologizing to Ron for her disabilities tearing their relationship apart, but she recalls these mock-arguments with disturbing clarity. Still, they're there for her, and she's doing what she can to take control of her disabilities.

Speaking of which, what if she used a milky crystal as a portable focus for her potions-reminding enchantment for when she's out of her apartment?

**Author's Note:**

> You know the "three fictional characters who describe you" meme? I said Hermione, but then I had to specify the Hermione I meant. This is she.


End file.
